


The Old Year Passes

by Kestrel337



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, No Angst, post zurich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 00:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13224801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kestrel337/pseuds/Kestrel337
Summary: Theresa didn't work out. Swiss Air didn't work out. Martin is starting over. Arthur is starting something new.





	The Old Year Passes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kahvi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kahvi/gifts).



> For Kahvi, as part of the Fandot Secret Santa, 2017. May 2018 bless you!

**One Month Ago: Martin**

“I’m on top of the world, yeah, I’m on top of the world,” Martin sang along with the radio. Odd, he thought, being in such a good mood. He’d thought he was done with driving a van through Fitton in the pouring rain. That it was a rental van, newer model, filled with his own belongings, made an enormous difference. He signaled, turned into the small parking area in front of the flats, and parked in the unloading zone. Time to finish moving in. 

The skills hadn’t left him, probably never would. He started with the boxes, stacking them in front of the wide windows, marveling at the existence of three boxes labeled ‘bric-a-brac’. 

“Martin Crieff owns multiple boxes of tchotchkes,” he grinned. And that count didn’t include the two boxes of model airplanes. Those would go in the second bedroom -two bedrooms!- that he was setting up as a home-office. 

The rain didn’t let up until he was returning the van, fueled according the rental agreement, and getting back into his own car. Not fancy, no, but not the utter junker he’d have been stuck with in the past. He wasn’t that Martin anymore, and he was going to do this properly.

***

**12 months ago: Arthur**

“Come on, Arthur. For heaven’s sake, why are you taking pictures of the terminal? You see airport terminals nearly every day.” 

He hurriedly snapped the picture and let the camera dangle on its neck-strap. “Sorry, Mum. But I can take pictures tomorrow, right? When we go sightseeing? I've always wanted to see Amsterdam.” 

“Yes, yes. You are free to take as many as you want tomorrow. Although goodness knows the world has no need of more pictures of windmills.”

Arthur supposed she was right. There were posters on the wall, adverts for walking tours and bus tours and boat tours. Well, he’d just have to make sure his were different, that’s all. There was a book in his bag, Photography for the Complete Clot. He’d read it again tonight, and maybe start the one about fixing his pictures on the computer, too. 

They caught a car to the hotel, one of the ones run by regular people in their spare time. Herc said it was only fair that they help out other people trying to get ahead in the world, and Mum said it wasn’t worth a fight, which made Douglas raise his eyebrows and cough so unconvincingly even Arthur could tell it was fake. But he liked it; every car they took was different. Some of them had funny signs, asking people not to be sick, or saying that they could play whatever they wanted on the radio. There’d been a folder full of menus on the back seat of the one in New York, all restaurants that were within walking distance of their hotel. This one had a rainbow colored steering-wheel cover, which Arthur thought was brilliant, especially with the driver’s extravagantly manicured nails tapping against it. 

“Can I take a picture of your steering wheel?” 

“My steering wheel?” 

“Yeah. With your fingers sort of...yeah, like that.” When the driver nodded, he lifted his camera and framed up the shot. He clicked just as the traffic light changed, and they were off again. When they arrived, the driver asked to see the picture.

“Dude, that’s awesome. I’d love to buy a copy. Look,” she said to the driver behind her. “Look how the lights are all in the windshield…” 

“You really like it? I can send it to you, only I need your address.” 

The driver handed him a card, waved to the rest of the crew, and drove away with a big grin. And Arthur had a new idea. Martin had gotten really good at flying, by reading the manual over and over and then flying a whole lot. Maybe that worked for other things, too. 

***  


**Twelve Months Ago: Martin**

_Arthur, Thanks for the pictures from Kyoto. It looks like everyone enjoyed themselves. I’m glad you can take the time for some sightseeing between flights now that Carolyn doesn’t have to pinch every penny._

__

__

_Now. I have some news to share with you. I’m sure it will seem like sad news, but it’s really not, and I want to let you know before you find out from someone else. Theresa and I have stopped seeing each other. It was a mutual decision, and we’ve stayed friends, which is probably better for both of us. Really, that’s not the important thing. But since we aren’t seeing each other, I’ve had a bit more time to myself. And I’ve realized that Zurich is very nice, but it doesn’t really feel like home to me. And Swiss Air is wonderful, everything I wanted in an airline job, but, well, I guess I’ve realized that I didn’t really want an airline job. I really liked flying with MJN. It’s more like a family than a business, isn’t it? So I’ve decided to leave Swiss Air, and Zurich. Beyond that I’m not sure what I’m going to do, or where I’m going to go. I have some ideas, and of course I’ll let you know what I decide. But I didn’t want one of Herc’s friends to say something, and to have you find out from him and then worry. I really am okay. Just at a bit of a loose end right now._

_Yours,_

_Martin_

***

**Six Months Ago: Arthur**

“Mail’s here!” Arthur scooped the envelopes out of the basket and hurried into the kitchen, sorting them by name. “Here’s one for Mum, one for Herc, Mum, Mum, Mum...hey! This one’s for me! I never get mail. I wonder what it is?”

Carolyn handed him the letter opener. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

Arthur nodded and examined the envelope before opening it. “It sure is official looking. There’s even a picture on it.” He tapped the image of a camera on the return address, then slit the paper and pulled out a folded letter. A second slip of paper fell to the table when he opened it up and began to read.

_Dear Mr Shappey,_

__

__

_We are delighted to announce that you are the first place winner in the Photo Club Amateur photography contest for April: People At Work. Enclosed you will find a cheque for £50. Your picture will appear in the next quarterly newsletter, and be eligible to win the year-end prize of £300._

“Wow! Mum, look! I won the contest!” 

“Yes, dear, so I heard. Out of curiosity, which picture did you finally decide on?”

Arthur pointed to a framed photograph on the kitchen wall. It showed the flight deck and windscreen of GERTI from behind the seats. A brilliant sunset could be seen out the windscreen, framed by the glowing dials and controls. Herc was shown in profile, turning to address Douglas, whose arm was reaching down to depress a switch. 

“I’ve always been rather fond of that one,” Herc said. “It really does capture a sense of the job. Do you know, Carolyn, I think we ought to use it on our next brochure.” 

Arthur beamed, and picked up his camera. “Mrs Delwood is paying me to take some pictures of her dahlias before the blooms fade. And then I’m off to the shops. There’s a lens I’ve been reading about that’s really great for scenery.” 

***

**Six Months Ago: Martin**

“Congratulations, Mr Crieff. That was a well delivered lesson.” Roger, the instructor turned tester, signed off on his form, then shook Martin’s hand. “Will you be looking for a job, then?”

“Um, no. I passed? Really?” 

“Don’t give me that. You know you did. What will you do, then, if you aren’t signing on with a flight school?”

Martin took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and dared, finally, to speak aloud the plan he’d finally settled on. “I’m going to buy a plane, and start my own training business.” 

Roger looked at him and grinned. “Of course you are. Should’a known you had a plan. Where abouts?” 

“Fitton.” 

***

**One Month Ago: Arthur and Martin**

He’d seen the new airplane land and watched it taxi to the hanger at the very end of the row, the one with the small portacabin next door. He’d considered calling Yellow Airplane on it, but Mum had quelled him with a look before retreating to her office. Herc said it was a Cessna 172, the kind that lots of people used to teach new pilots, and that the company renting the hanger was called Pegasus Flight Training and Charters but nobody had met the owner yet.

But today there was a car out front of the portacabin, and the lights were on inside. 

“It looks like someone’s in over at the new place. I thought I might go say hello. Seeing as we’re on standby, and all.”

Herc and Douglas didn’t even look up from the Scrabble board. Carolyn gave him an absent wave before turning her attention back to the paperwork in front of her, and Arthur escaped with a cheerful “Back soon!”. 

There was a small sign on the door, just the silhouette of a winged horse with the company name beneath it. Arthur tapped on the door. The answer was muffled, but sounded like an invitation, so he opened the door and stepped inside. The owner of the voice was on the other side of a small desk, bent over and tugging on an electrical cord attached to a printer on the side. Arthur waited. 

“Ah! There!”

Arthur started. The voice was familiar. His heart jumped a bit. 

Martin stood up from behind the desk, a professional smile on his face. “Hello, Welcome to...Arthur!” 

“Skip! Do you work here now? You should’ve told us you were coming back.” 

Martin pointed to a chair, and came around to the opposite visitor chair so they were face to face. “I do work here now, as it happens. I’m Pegasus. Well, not actually the horse, but Pegasus Flight training is me. I’m a flight instructor now. Well, and charter pilot too, of course. Not like OJS though. Just short hops, one or maybe two passengers. Thrill flights, really.” 

Arthur grinned. “That’s great, Skip! Do the others know it’s you?”

“I haven’t told them, no. I was going to come over once I’d gotten everything set up in here.” 

Arthur looked around the tiny office space. There was a two-drawer filing cabinet, a laptop and printer, and a coat tree. A small table held a kettle and some mugs. The walls were bare, but there was a stack of framed prints leaning against the side of the desk. 

“This looks pretty set up to me. Come over now? The others will be so surprised.” 

“Yes, alright.” 

“I’m so glad you’re back. I’ve missed you, Skip.” 

“You know something Arthur? I’ve missed you, too.” 

***

**Yesterday: Arthur and Martin**

“It’s almost time!” Arthur cheered and gave a mighty blast on his party horn. Carolyn was passing out glasses of sparkling fruit juice and wine, and Herc was adjusting the volume on the television. 

**10**  
Martin draped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, his other hand holding a plastic flute of champagne. “Happy New Year, Arthur.”

 **9**  
Arthur grinned and reached up to squeeze Martin’s hand

 **8**  
Martin turned his head and whispered  


**7**  
in Arthur’s ear

 **6**  
Arthur turned and looked, wide-eyed, at Martin

 **5**  
‘Really?’

 **4**  
‘Really’

 **3**  
‘I...yes. Please.’

 **2**  
Martin leaned down, head tilting and lips 

**1**  
Pressing into Arthur’s for the first kiss of the new year.


End file.
